


Damned Job

by ScooterThyme



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hellish Jobs, Humor, Near Death Experiences, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScooterThyme/pseuds/ScooterThyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One poor unsuspecting soul has a near-death experience, resulting in a hell of a job opportunity a few years down the road.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damned Job

**_WHAM._ **

Scott landed hard, face-down, on a bare stone floor. He had the wind knocked out of him for a few seconds, but was otherwise unharmed. Trying to get his bearings, he slowly rose to his feet, eyes flicking back and forth like mad, attempting to take in his surroundings.

He was at one end of a cavernous room, entirely made up of different types of rock. Much of it was polished, or even carved into simple columns and doorways. The lack of any discernable light source gave the cold material an ancient feel, despite its obviously modern styling. It wasn’t completely dark, but Scott couldn’t seem to find a ceiling--or anything at all, really--when he looked up. The room apparently extended forever upwards, into blackness.

“Oh bloody hell, not _again…_ Mazikeen, get in here!”

Scott turned to find the source of the angry Welsh accent shouting from across the room. His eyes landed on a tall man sitting atop what he could only assume was a wooden throne. It was intricately carved, with plush cushions and gold painted accents. Its occupant had dark hair, a pronounced five-o’clock shadow, and the deepest brown eyes Scott had ever seen. He was wearing a crimson button-down shirt and dark pants, with what was presumably a matching jacket draped over one arm of the throne. A middle-aged woman in a neon jogging suit stood timidly before him, looking as if she’d very much like to gnaw her own hands off out of nervousness. The man held up a finger to her.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

An exquisite woman approached the throne from behind it, and stopped just short of addressing its occupant straight-on. She bowed her head quickly, lightly, her hair falling in front of most of her face.

“Yes, there are still people careening down through the ceiling. I want that taken care of, _yesterday!_ I don’t know how I’m expected to run this place without anyone following damned procedure, it’s absolutely ludicrous.”

The woman turned her head to look at the others in the room, briefly showing the other side of her face. Or rather, what would have been her face, if it didn’t appear to have been mostly torn off. Scott blinked and rubbed his eyes, unsure if he was hallucinating at this point. By the time he’d refocused, the woman was gone.

The man dropped his head to the side, closing his eyes and briefly pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger. After a few moments, he gave an exasperated sigh, and picked up a simple clipboard from the side of his throne.

“Pardon the interruption. Now where were we, what was it--Helen, yes.”

The woman in front of him flinched and all but jumped out of her skin as he said her name, but appeared fixated on him and unable to flee.

“Your sentence is scheduled to be… _ooh_ , I haven’t seen this one in a while. You get the pleasure of waiting in the DMV for the rest of eternity. _Without_ having made an appointment.” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at Helen, a very unnerving, almost Cheshire-like grin. He casually tossed the clipboard into the air, and it dispersed into a small cloud of ash.

Helen stood up a little straighter, meekly raising a hand as if in defence, managing to utter a pathetic squeak as she did so. A moment later she screamed while spontaneously bursting into flames, and then she was gone. There was no evidence whatsoever to suggest that she, or anyone else, had ever been there at all.

The man turned his attention toward Scott. Grinning or not, his face appeared predatory, but Scott couldn’t tear his eyes away. He found himself strangely drawn towards him. Before he even realised he’d moved, he was standing in front of the throne.

“Now then, dear boy, why the me did you feel the need to skip the gate routine and come directly here first, _hmm?_ ” he purred, reaching for another clipboard that had appeared on the free arm of the throne. His face dropped and he furrowed his brow as he flipped through the few pages on the board, then looked up.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Er… Scott.”

“You didn’t change it recently, did you?”

“What? N-no.”

The man flipped through his pages once more, and then his eyes momentarily flashed bright red. He threw the clipboard carelessly behind him, but this time it landed on the floor, echoing across the room. His eyes rolled dramatically as he turned his head back towards Scott.

“Seriously, d’you ever have one of those days? I mean, obviously you do, since you’re _here_ , but you know what I mean.”

“Uh… would it be a stupid question to ask where _here_ is?”

“Why Hell, of course,” said the man, matter-of-factly. “Blimey, I thought we’d gotten that paperwork snafu under control by now.” He stood up, shaking his head and adjusting his cufflinks as he did so. The creepy smile returned to his face. “You’re not on the current list, so apparently there’s been a bit of a mistake in admin. You’re free to beam back up, _Scotty_ , at least for the time being.”

Scott simply stood there in a confused stupor, not knowing how to process what he’d just been told. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out of it. The man standing in front of the throne raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Look, ‘m sorry about the mix-up, but really, do get out of here,” he said dismissively, waving his hands in a shooing gesture. A blinding white light enveloped Scott, overriding most of his senses. The last thing he was aware of was the sound of the man laughing in the back of his head, saying, _“Have a nice second chance, ya poor sod!”_

 

* * *

 

_Blink… blink…_

Scott woke up slowly to the sounds of light rhythmic beeping and soft whirring of medical equipment. He took a quick mental stock check, finding that while he could move, he felt very disinclined to do so. After a few minutes of observation, he came to the conclusion he was in a hospital, and apparently on some seriously strong painkillers.

“Ah, good morning there! Nice to see you,” said a nurse as she entered the room. She had kind eyes and slightly greying hair, tied back into a bun. She studied a few of the electronic monitors Scott was surrounded with, scribbled some notes on a folder she carried, and flashed him a warm smile. “We’ll cut down your sedative if you’d like to have a visitor or two later on. I know there’s at least a couple people who’ve been pretty worried about you.”

Scott was groggier than he could ever remember having been in the past, but his mouth seemed to be cooperating with him enough to manage a reply. “Yeah… thanks.”

“Good,” said the nurse, patting him lightly on the shoulder. “You just get some more rest for now.”

As she left, Scott stared up at the ceiling, surprisingly comforted to see that one actually existed, unlike… Wait-- _had that been a dream?_ Or did he actually do something incredibly stupid, and literally end up in Hell? He struggled with a multitude of questions for several minutes, before ultimately deciding he still felt like utter shit and simply couldn’t deal with it yet. He fell back asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next time Scott woke up wasn’t nearly as difficult, and he managed to raise up an arm to cover a weak cough.

“Hey, dude.”

“Alex? Hi man, what’s up?”

“ _You_ , apparently. ‘Bout damn time, too. You’ve been out for a couple days,” said Alex, sitting in a chair across the room.

“What even happened? Why the fuck am I in a hospital?” asked Scott, carefully shifting himself up into a sitting position on the bed.

Alex’s eyes grew wide and his eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “You don’t even _know?_ I guess you really _did_ hit your head hard. You and Jamie were driving to work and had a nasty car wreck, some drunk crossed the line and smashed into you... Jamie’s fine, but I guess your airbag didn’t work or something.”

“Wow. I mean… _shit…_ ” Scott stammered, trying to digest the information. “Well, that explains my screaming headache.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. One of the doctors said you actually died for like 5 minutes when the ambulance finally got you here, and they didn’t think you were gonna make it.”

“Guess they were wrong.”

“Yeah. Damn shame, too. I already put up Craigslist ads to sell your shit and look for a new roommate.” A slow grin crept onto Alex’s face.

Scott rolled his eyes.

“ _Ass_.”

 

* * *

 

_~~~A few years later...~~~_

Lucifer Morningstar liked having the hottest club in town. He liked mingling with his patrons, seeing snippets of their little lives, and occasionally indulging in a slight bit of meddling here and there--if they asked.

What he _didn’t_ particularly like was being a business owner and an employer. Working the books, dealing with paperwork, constantly having to chase down suppliers, and the annoying hassles of tedious little things like scheduling were all painfully boring. Fortunately, he was generally able to pass most of it off to Mazikeen more often than not. Unfortunately, it simply wasn’t possible to weasel his way out of one of his least favorite business requirements today. Maze was dealing with some investors that had specifically requested her presence instead of his, and now _he_ was stuck having to interview an increasingly tiresome number of potential new employees.

Sitting in one of the more plush corner booths of the club, Lucifer looked up from the resume of the young woman seated across from him. She was honestly a good fit, experience-wise, but Lucifer just couldn’t find a single interesting thing about her. Finally smiling for the first time in the interview, he steepled his fingers over the table, his eyes boring into the woman’s soul.

“I do have one last question for you, dear. What is it you most desire?”

Ah, there it was, that familiar and slightly hypnotized look he’d become so accustomed to. His target hesitated, clearing her throat. Lucifer leaned in just a bit in anticipation.

“Well, I… I really wanna date that barista at the Starbucks I go to every morning. He’s really cute, and so sweet, and…”

“That’s all? _Really?_ ”

“Uh…”

Lucifer sat back and dropped his hands onto his thighs, defeated. It wasn’t too terribly often he’d pull anything particularly intriguing out of anyone with that question, but trying to amuse himself today by asking all the applicants he’d interviewed had backfired and proven to be pointless. They were all as dull as rocks. He sighed.

“Well then, for crying out loud, what are you here wasting _my_ time for? Just go ask the bloody sap out and live happily ever after. And get a life while you’re at it, please, if you’re capable of such a thing. We’ll call you if we can’t find anyone else interesting enough to fill the position.”

The woman stood up and gathered her purse, clearly not really processing what had just happened. She shot one last questioning glance at Lucifer before turning to leave.

“Um, thanks. G-good luck with the hiring,” she sputtered, having completely lost her confidence at this point.

Lucifer didn’t even raise his eyes to meet hers, and instead only replied with a non-committal hand wave. He felt a little bad about having essentially told her off, but it had been a long day, and even the Devil was prone to frustration. There was only one more person to interview today. The quicker he got it over with, the quicker he’d be able to turn his attention to more stimulating things.

The resume in front of him didn’t stand out as being any more impressive than the others he’d seen. Decent education. Seemed to be a fairly well-rounded person, some volunteering here and there, and wait-- _Scott Wilson_. That name seemed awfully familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at it. Nothing came to him after a couple of minutes, so he brushed it off as inconsequential.

“Alright,” he called out to the entryway, “Scott Wilson, it’s your turn to try and prove yourself useful enough that I don’t fall asleep.”

A tall young man briefly peeked his head out from behind a column. He was well-tanned, with floppy brown hair that appeared to have a mind of its own. He was dressed in a simple brown polo and black slacks. Scott strode with confidence down the stairs and across the the club floor until he stopped suddenly about a dozen feet away from Lucifer. His mouth dropped open and his eyes grew wide with fear and recognition.

Lucifer didn’t generally get such a reaction before even having spoken to a person, and it was an amusing change from the previous few hours. He grinned, cocking his head to the side, then glanced back down at the resume.

“Scott Wilson, Scott Wilson… where do I know you from, hmm?”

Scott hadn’t moved a muscle. Realization slowly dawned on Lucifer’s face, and he slowly raised his gaze up to meet his last applicant’s. Mischief twinkled in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s _you!_ I remember now, second-chance Scotty! Yes, how’s that been going for you the past few years? Done anything dramatic to turn your life around, or will you be dealing with me for the rest of eternity regardless of your employment status?” He could barely contain his excitement. Now _this_ was interesting! Lucifer hopped out of the booth and closed the distance between them in a few easy strides.

Scott seemed to have recovered enough to close his mouth, though it took several more seconds before he could find his voice. He blinked multiple times, and brought an unsteady hand up, pointing at Lucifer.

“I… I--I _died_ , and you were… you’re the Devil! You said I was in Hell,” whispered Scott.

Lucifer grinned back at him like a maniac, clearly enjoying his discomfort. He folded his hands together in front of him.

“Yes, yes, I can see it’s all coming back to you now, isn’t it? I must say this is _extremely_ amusing. I don’t believe I’ve never met a soul twice in this manner before their round-trip ticket expired. I’d _love_ to see what happens next!” he purred.

“What?”

“Ah, I do recall that being a favorite word of yours,” Lucifer said, as he stepped to Scott’s side and put an arm around the young man’s shoulders. “Tell you what, let’s skip the interview--you’re hired. I trust you’ll remember Mazikeen as well. She’s my head bartender, I’ll have her give you a call next week.”

Lucifer gently pushed the young man’s shoulders indicating he was going to walk him out. Scott was still rooted to the spot, and didn’t respond until Lucifer sharply clapped a hand down on his arm. He ushered his reluctant new employee to the door, giddier than he’d been all week. Scott stopped just outside the threshold, and gave the most unconvincing smile Lucifer had ever seen.

“Yeah. I’ll… I’ll be looking forward to it. Th-thanks…”

“Oh, I am _so_ looking forward to working with you as well, second-chance boy!” Lucifer shut the door behind Scott and laughed as he waltzed over to the bar.  
  
“ _Wait’ll I tell Maze_ ,” he said to himself, shaking his head in amusement.

**Author's Note:**

> Massive shout out to Antarctic_Echoes for doing beta for me!!!


End file.
